


It’s Like That

by audrheology



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audrheology/pseuds/audrheology
Summary: Fireheart visits Ravenpaw and learns something new.
Relationships: Barley/Ravenpaw (Warriors), Firestar & Ravenpaw (Warriors), Firestar/Sandstorm (Warriors)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	It’s Like That

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between Chapters 28 and 29 of Warriors: Rising Storm, shortly after Yellowfang dies and before the revelation that Tigerstar has seized control of ShadowClan. Yes, I read this book 13 years ago. Yes, I had to do research to place this fic in the canonical timeline. No, it’s probably not canon-compliant even though I tried. I don’t know why I wrote this in the year of our lord 2020, but here we both are.

Fireheart didn’t know where he was going until he was already at Fourtrees. 

Last night he held vigil for Yellowfang. Before that, the fire, and his last full night of sleep felt like moons ago. Fireheart knew he’d be dead on his paws tomorrow, but they carried him forward through the night, urged onward by his desire to be somewhere, anywhere else. 

Being in ThunderClan territory was like drowning. It was deathly quiet and reeked of ash and it was full of cats who needed Fireheart to have answers. Yellowfang’s body was buried there, Bluestar had denounced StarClan there, Fireheart yelled at Sandstorm there. It was too much. He needed to breathe.

He didn’t want to be the ThunderClan deputy right now. He just wanted to talk to a cat who saw him as Fireheart. Just Fireheart. 

So, Ravenpaw it was. 

It was still too early for moonhigh patrols, so crossing WindClan territory undetected was a breeze. Fireheart traveled over the moor and across Twoleg farms with the same instinct and brain-fog that led him to Fourtrees. Avoiding the Twoleg dogs was a simple matter of taking a long way around. Before he was really aware of it, Fireheart was trotting to a stop outside Ravenpaw’s barn, the warm scent of mice and straw wafting towards him. 

Barley must have already been awake, because before Fireheart could consider which way to approach the barn, the short black-and white tom slipped out of the main door, muscles tense underneath his pelt. He relaxed when he got a good look at Fireheart. 

“Ah, Fireheart, I thought I smelled you-”

“Fireheart!” Ravenpaw raced out of the barn, practically leaping over the other loner. Fireheart blinked his surprise and suppressed a purr when Ravenpaw’s nose touched his in greeting. “It’s good to see you again so soon! We could see the forest fire from our roof, so I was worried…” The sleek black tom stopped abruptly as Barley came up and brushed against his side. Wide green eyes blinked at Fireheart. “You smell like soot.”

Fireheart watched Ravenpaw put pieces together. The fire, the smell of ash, Fireheart travelling across the moor, now.

“Is Bluestar okay?” Ravenpaw asked, green eyes darting around Fireheart in a panic, like he was looking for other cats to emerge from the darkness. “Are you visiting the Moonstone?”

The thought sent icy claws into Fireheart’s chest. He hoped it would be many, many long moons before anyone called him _Firestar._

“No, no-” Fireheart reassured, and Ravenpaw was immediately, visibly relieved. “-I came to see you.” He realized now that what he was doing was ridiculous. He flushed underneath his pelt. “A lot has happened. I wanted to let you know. Our camp was...” Fireheart trailed off, watching Ravenpaw’s claws sink into the ground. “We’re rebuilding it.”

Barley wrapped his black-and-white tail around Ravenpaw’s back. “Did anyone-”

“Halftail.” Fireheart croaked. “Yellowfang.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Barley rumbled, dipping his head.

Fireheart was genuinely touched. “Thank you.” Barley had no reason to show loyalty to ThunderClan, but Fireheart could tell from the slant of his shoulders and the concern in his voice that he was truly pained by the news. “I need to be at camp before dawn, so I shouldn’t stay. I just-” Fireheart met Ravenpaw’s gaze and found concern there. He glanced away. “I needed to get away, for a while. It was nice seeing you both.” 

“I’ll walk you back to WindClan territory.” Ravenpaw meowed, in a tone that made it a clear statement, not a suggestion. 

Barley shook his head like he was amused. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” He nuzzled his head beneath Ravenpaw’s chin and the black tom gave his ear one swift lick, then another. Barley pulled away, tail brushing Ravenpaw’s flank. “Wake me up when you get back.” His voice was a rumble.

Ravenpaw nodded, and his green eyes trailed behind Barley as the black-and-white tom nodded farewell to Fireheart, padded to the Twoleg barn, and disappeared.

Fireheart remembered the way he and Sandstorm had been greeting each other lately, with nuzzles and soft words and ear-licks. He remembered the way Whitestorm carefully picked the best prey from the fresh-kill pile for Willowpelt, and the way Graystripe’s eyes were both bitterly sad and somehow warm when he thought about Silverstream.

Oh.

“So, it’s like that, then.” Fireheart’s whiskers twitched in amusement.

Ravenpaw stilled and his gaze snapped to Fireheart. He was quiet for a long moment, like he was trying to read something in Fireheart’s expression. 

“It is.” He meowed, quietly. “For me. He doesn’t-” Ravenpaw looked back to where Barley had disappeared into the Twoleg barn, and started kneading the earth like it would comfort him. “He doesn’t _know_ , but. Yes. It’s like that.”

Fireheart could almost see embarrassment prickle off his friend’s fur. Ravenpaw gave the white patch on his chest a swift lick, as if trying to smooth the feeling down, and Fireheart felt a purr rumble unexpectedly in his own throat. 

He couldn’t help it. He padded over to Ravenpaw and rubbed his muzzle against his friend’s shoulder. “It’s so good to see you like this,” he meowed. Healthy, safe, happy. Lately, Fireheart had had little to be happy about, and for some reason this glimpse into Ravenpaw’s life made him want to jump out of his fur in delight. Fireheart pulled back to look at his friend as something more mischievous bubbled to the surface. “Now that you mention it, Barley’s a pretty handsome tom. If I lived here, I’d be padding after him, too!”

Ravenpaw looked flatly at Fireheart, short fur puffed out in the way it always was when he was startled. Then, in a flash, he cuffed Fireheart’s ear. Hard. “Do I need to chase you back to ThunderClan?” 

Fireheart laughed for the first time in ages. Though Ravenpaw tried to hide it, his eyes danced with mirth. “You sound like Graystripe.” Maybe he meant to sound annoyed, but he failed by a fox-length. It came out fond. “ _You_ are supposed to be the mature one.” 

Fireheart tried to appear offended, but the bubbly feeling persisted. “Since when?”

Ravenpaw got to his paws and brushed past his friend. “Since always.” Fireheart trotted around to Ravenpaw’s flank as they began the journey home. “You’ve always carried a lot on your shoulders.” He murmured after a moment, pressing heavily into Fireheart’s side. 

Fireheart felt his whiskers twitch in acknowledgement, but couldn’t bring himself to speak more on it. Sometimes it was like he was being buried by it all. Instead, he bounded ahead, trusting Ravenpaw to keep up with him. 

They raced across the Twoleg fields and through the hedge and over Ravenpaw’s scent marker. The moonlight bleached the moor, grasses swaying in a warm breeze, and Fireheart thought about what he was returning back to. A bare camp with a makeshift nursery and cats sleeping wherever it was dry. Bluestar hiding beneath Highrock. Sandstorm, who wouldn’t even meet his eye anymore. 

Fireheart stopped short of the edge of WindClan territory. Ravenpaw trotted to a halt a fox-length ahead, turning back to his friend with a question in his eyes. 

“How are you supposed to know?” Fireheart asked, like the question burst out of him. He was thinking of pale ginger fur and green eyes and tortoiseshells and herbs. “With Barley, how did you ... how did you _know?”_

The black tom startled, like it was the last thing he expected Fireheart to ask. "He understands me.” Ravenpaw sucked in a breath like it hurt. “He’s the only cat who has ever understood me, I think.” 

Fireheart’s fur fluffed up in shame. He could have done more to protect Ravenpaw from Tigerclaw. Should have. He looked down his paws. 

“Barley is like me.” Ravenpaw pressed on. “He doesn’t get angry when I’m frightened of loud noises, or when I wake him up with a nightmare, or when I panic over something mouse-brained.” He kneaded the ground again, this time with claws digging into soft grass. “He has a bad past. I don’t know a lot about it, but it wasn’t good. _His_ nightmares wake me up, too. He gets what I went through. He understands.” Ravenpaw’s fur stood nearly on end and his white-tipped tail thrashed. Fireheart got the sense that his friend wanted to pace around but was fighting to stay put. 

“And he’s so _shy,_ Fireheart. You wouldn’t be able to tell, because he trusts Bluestar and he trusts us, but he’s so afraid of other cats. But he still watches out for me and protects our home. Barley is the bravest cat I know. He makes me feel safe. I haven’t-” Ravenpaw almost seemed to tremble with the weight of it. “I haven’t felt safe before. I love him.”

Sandstorm did not make Fireheart feel safe. She challenged him and spat at him and told him _Bluestar would expect you to know what to do,_ as if the weight of an entire clan in a dead forest wasn’t riding on his shoulders. She questioned his decisions and forced him to approach things in ways he normally wouldn’t. She pushed him to be a better deputy, a better mentor for Cloudpaw, and a better cat. Unwaveringly loyal and fiercely protective. Maybe Sandstorm said what she did because she actually believed in him. She believed he’d know what to do. The thought went through Fireheart like being hit by a Twoleg monster. 

He felt a rush of warmth from the pads of his paws to the tip of his tail. He loved her. He loved her so much. 

“You should tell him.” Fireheart meowed, unable to keep the purr out of his voice. He padded forward and brushed his flank against Ravenpaw’s in a way he hoped was comforting. “He should know.”

Ravenpaw’s voice was so small. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?” He asked, and then a beat later, softer, “What if he makes me leave?”

Fireheart couldn’t help it, the purr in his chest rumbled deeper. He tried not to laugh. “He won’t.”

Ravenpaw whirled around on him, looking a little wild. “Why are you so sure?”

Fireheart actually did laugh, now. “I’m pretty flea-brained when it comes to this stuff, but even I can tell he’s head over paws.” He thought back to when Cinderpelt knocked sense into his own head. _Any cat with eyes can see that Sandstorm is very, very fond of you!_ Fireheart really was an idiot. “Barley seems very, uh, affectionate. With you.”

Ravenpaw had a remarkably thin, sleek coat, but when he was embarrassed enough even he could manage to look like a puffball. “Do you share a nest?” Fireheart asked, tilting his head like he was wondering about the moon cover.

“That’s not strange! You and I shared nests as apprentices sometimes.” 

Fireheart waited. Ravenpaw bristled, getting more desperate. “It gets cold at night!”

Fireheart’s whiskers twitched. “It’s greenleaf.”

“Don’t you have patrols to organize?” Ravenpaw cuffed his ear again. Fireheart laughed and realized he felt so much lighter than he did when he left. Facing his clan felt bearable, when hours ago it was unthinkable. 

He wanted to say something snarky back, but when Fireheart opened his mouth what came out was, “I miss you.” 

Ravenpaw blinked and Fireheart felt himself fluff up in embarrassment. He didn’t want Ravenpaw to misunderstand, “I mean - I would never ask you to come back. You’re a different cat than the one that left ThunderClan.” And it was true. Stronger, sturdier, more carefree and confident. “I’m so happy for the life you have now. I just miss you, sometimes. I miss Graystripe, I miss…” he trailed off. It was pointless. He missed being a trio of mouse-brained apprentices. But it had been many moons since then, and Graystripe had his kits in RiverClan, and Ravenpaw had Barley, and Fireheart-

Fireheart had ThunderClan. He had Sandstorm. 

“I miss you too.” Ravenpaw meowed, soft, eyes shining in the near-full moonlight. “You’re a different cat than the one I left behind.” His white-tipped tail came to a rest on Fireheart’s shoulder. “You’re a good deputy, Fireheart. One day you’ll be a great leader, you just have to trust yourself and the cats at your side.” A purr rumbled low in the black tom’s chest. “You also shouldn’t be late for dawn patrol.” 

Fireheart laughed. “Right. I’ll visit you again soon. This was nice.”

Ravenpaw’s purr grew louder. “Looking forward to it.” He turned to leave, but paused. “Also, you should tell Sandstorm that you're in love with her.” And before Fireheart could react at all to that statement, Ravenpaw had bounded into the night, soft grasses swaying behind him.


End file.
